Orleans County monitor. [volume] (Barton, Vt.) 1872-1953, 1887-03-14
71tlouih9' Column.
Little Pitchers.

to hear. and what does not con
.cern them. 1t is just as bad a:
stealing: for the listener takes Sc
cret that doesn't belong to him.
Little Jane Mills was a listener
What made her so in the first place
| don't know for her mother was ;
good woman, and her father a gooC
man. But Jane never saw two per
sons talking together without at once
wanting to know what they were say
ing, especially if they were talking
low, and appeared to wish not to be
overheard. She would creap near,
and hang about to get a word, or get
behind chairs or curtains; anything
to hear. And, after all, what did
she get? Nothing but dislike and
contempt Seedlings. whippings, pun
ishments of all sorts did her no good.
No sooner did she see people talking
than she must hear.
One day lady came to see James
Aunt Ellen, and the two seated them
| selves at the farthest end of the
parlor from the rest of the company f.;
and, with their heads together, were
talking in low voices.
Jane felt sure something was be-
ing said which she would like to
know so she edged towards that end
of the room, making believe that she
wanted to get a book that was there.
At first the ladies did not notice
her, and she heard the visitor say:
''Its the most dreadful thing that
| ever heard -
'Hush.' says Aunt Ellen, espving
Jane. ''Little pitchers have big ears"
Jane knew perfectly well what that
meant, for she had heard it times
enough; but she pretended not to
hear, and sang to herself little, and
climbed on a cricket to look at the
books on the shelf.
''What book do YOU want, Jane %
her aunt asked rather sharply.
Il WANT want one with pictures
in it, stammered Jane, not knowing
at first what to say.
"Take this, then" her aunt said,
and gave her one full of pictures.
Jane took the book but, instead of
going away with it, seated herself
not far from the ladies, and began
turning over the leaves, and looking
at the pictures, as if she thought of
nothing else in the world.
Miss Mills got up angrily.
"Come up to my room she said to
her friend. "Perhaps we may be
able to speak there"
SThe two went out of the parlor,
and up stairs, and leaving the
little girl disappointed. What
should she do? She bent over the
book. and tried to think. As to los
ing the story of ''the most dreadful
thing | ever heard" that was out of
the question
Presently an idea struck her. There
were the attic stairs. Nothing could
be better. No sooner had the thought
popped into her head, than she drop
ped her book and hurried up stairs.
She went, quite softly, into her
mothers chamber, and opened the
door between that and her aunt's
chamber
How that door did squeak Jane
made up her mind that one of the
first things for her to do would be to
oil those hateful hinges. Why hadn't
she thought of it before? She was ter
ribly afraid that her aunt would hear
the squeaking, and open the door. If
she should, then she would know in
minute what Jane was there for.
Anybody who has tried to get a
squeakv door open without any one
hearing it, knows that the easier YOU
are, the more noise the door makes.
The best way is to get firm hold on
the knob, then open it as quick as
flash. 1t is then too much astonished
to make the noise, or it makes but
very little.
Jane pulled this one an inch or so,
and it creaked wofully. She stopped,
then pulled another inch, and it
made a noise like a mad pig. Then
she was sure they would hear, and
ran away and hid under her mothers
bed. After waiting while, since no
one appeared, she came out again.
Probably they thought that the wind
was swinging the door. She could
hear their voices talking in the next
room, quite as though they were not
at all disturbed. She took the door
that time in the right way, and gave
it quick pull, getting it far enough
open to squeeze through. Ehen she
stood in a little entry, with a door
behind and a door in front of her.
and the attic stairs at her right hand.
Half way up these stairs was the
post she wanted to reach. There was
a little window that looked into her
aunt's chamber, and gave light to the
stairway which went up in a dark
part of the attic. This window
swung on a hinge, and in warm
weather was often kept open for ven
tilation. 1t was open now, Jane
saw, and through it she could hear
their voices quite plainly.
Stepping slowly and softly, she
went up stair after stair; but, Oh